liberation:

set me free,

(the world deserves my existence)

let me out,

(keeping me in will cause you to explode)

face your fears,

(really, there is nothing to fear)

and be yourself.

(because it does matter)

---

 a little heavy on the parentheses these days. but owell... love em'.

spirits

ephemeral connection

those nights,

when our breaths combined

could drown the crashing waves,

the light in your eyes illuminated

the darkness in mine.

our bodies lurched with space

as they yearn for sensuality;

the warmth of another's skin,
the comfort of an extra presence

but daylight, that damn invader,

(though with the best of hearts)

brought with it an earthquake

that shook us to our senses:

heat for the alcohol,

lucidity for our eyes

and pain as a punishment.

well it worked,

i saw her no more.

still, funny how my heart aches

for a stranger i've only known for three nights

and a day.

---

just wanted to write about hookups.
inspired by: http://gabforelle.tumblr.com/post/6856927038
(she is awesome)

why don't we go

hey, it's 7pm right now and i have like 4 hours before i will so very happily go to bed because i'm on the verge of an anxiety attack for reasons i find incredibly stupid and irrational yet uncontrollably harrowing. humans suck. anxiety is something i am not a fan of. depression and melancholy, i welcome. but not this.

so to ease my anxiety, which apparently, neither counting to ten helps (in any way possible. seriously, it just makes you sound OCD) nor the thiamin from tea does (though it does offer slight respite the lifespan as long as it takes for you to finish the tea), i suppose the only thing that'll quell this inane emotion that is eating me from the inside is to blog.

*** it is 10am right now and nothing has changed and i'm still ready to be the first one to run out of a burning building though the anxiety has curbed a little. funny how things that happen in your head never gets to play out and show its awesomeness. fuck you, murphy and your stupid, unsubstantiated 'law' which i will call 'theory'. oh, the stuff below are stuff i failed to post yesternight. yeah.

1. http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/things-to-get-used-to-in-new-york-city/

this article rocks, like really. it's about New York.
1. Hype can be very misleading in New York
2. In New York, almost anyone will talk to you, regardless of social capital or class. Everyone exists and doesn't exist at the same time.
3. People don't give a shit about history, politics, current events etc. no one in this city has time to worry about the big picture - they're trying to survive, dammit!
4. There is no counter-culture. No one is rebelling against anything. But what this means is that no one pretends that art, literature and music have any other function than commerce.


New York sounds like a pretty good place to be in.


2. http://thoughtcatalog.com/2010/how-to-be-my-boyfriend/

this is probably the most entertaining, self-satirical article i have ever read. all of his other articles are equally humorous. i'm always jealous of writers who can structure their work when mine is just a series of collapsible mess.

"Oh, I should mention that I can be a raging asshole. Here’s the deal with that: I have a very dominating personality but I also love it when someone dominates me. I will make snide comments to you all the time to see what your limits are. In these instances, it’s very important that you push back and call me out on my bullshit. If you do, I’ll have instant respect for you and it will actually turn me on. We’ll have good sex after, for sure."


3. Winnie the Pooh trailer:



well, this. i wouldn't (and refused) to watch Kung Fu Panda but i would actually watch this. i think it's just the draw of the song they used. still, A.A Milne's is freaking good at writing clincher lines, like this:

“If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you.”


i guess that's pretty much it. of course there's the Harry Potter and the final trailer and everything but i've already watched it 8 times (in 1080p) and yeah. freaking amazing. NOW I'M GONNA GO EXERCISE AND HOPEFULLY EXCRETE ALL OF THIS DISGUSTING ANXIETY. OKAYBYE.

intangible demons:

why do we have to be so insecure with ourselves?
we let this -- this fiend multiply inside and allow it to feed on our self-confidence, our everything.
and even though we try our best not to let it overpower us, it seems impossible to stop it from eventually overwhelming our very individual self. eventually we become a monster composed of our very own fears. those fears that we allow people to taunt us with and aid in our mutation process as it chips us from the outside as well.
why are we such weak beings anyway?
i only wonder.

---

i sort of really like this. both outfits.

no one is ever famous for being normal. they are famous because they are different.

sloppy work

no plot-line actually. just wanna try some descriptive writing:

She was peering into the room, staring at the man who was clearly on his toes, ready to jump from his seat to douse any fire should one miraculously start. she hurriedly tore herself away when she saw his head tilt, with her palms clasp together and a single thought that he missed his observer. perspiration trickled down her neck to join the others that mutated into the large patch beneath the laces of her dress. she decided to take the risk and peered through the crevice of that immensely heavy door, watching the man's fingers tapping wildly as sounds of gunfire mimicked his movement. she was so preoccupied with the man that she failed to notice the shadow that was beside her as it insidiously grew into a blotch that no light could penetrate. by the time she noticed the darkness a hand swiftly slithered to her mouth while the other wrangled her throat to muffle a reflexive gasp.

she struggled while her throat failed to produce that piercing scream amidst the aggressor's brute strength. within moments she felt her life slowly draining away despite her fruitless efforts to call out to anyone. because the aggressor was dressed wholly in black, one could not see his reaction to all of this, save the half-mooned revelation of his muddy, crooked teeth as his victim's body slackened.

there was nothing anyone could do to stop him from finishing his job.

---

inspiration:


Amsterdam (Ian McEwan), the climax scene for Clive.

the medieval period where Keira Knightly had somehow landed herself into.


---

pondering:

is physical attraction more important than mental acuity? 

what use is the former if no one would bother listening to a vacuos vessel?

but what use is the latter if you lack the looks to command attention from others?

omg,

this is a piece of genius:

by Dano Bowen:

I’ve been in a relationship with another boy for over a year now. It’s wonderful and miserable like I imagine most other relationships are. I don’t feel like a minority or a victim though I realize that maybe there’s a little more pressure put on a gay couple. It took awhile for us to get comfortable. There’s a power dynamic that has to be satisfied. I imagine it’s why heterosexuality is far more common than homosexuality: roles in a relationship are very strongly influenced by our gender . My boyfriend and I had to figure out who was going to be the girl and who was going to be the boy. Even though our genitals very strongly suggested that we both were men, a provider and a receiver had to be established. I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about who gets to bitch about nothing and everything and who gets to shut the fuck up and listen. This distinction is easy for some but it was hell for us.

I’m the sort of person who’s attracted to protection and power. I attribute this to my scrawny stature and wet-noodle arms. Biologically and evolutionarily it doesn’t make sense for me to be the warrior, so I seek out a figure who loves me enough to protect me from big bad things that could pound me into oblivion. This said: I never wanted to be a woman. I am no Carrie Bradshaw so when it became clear that I was to fill the submissive position of “girl” I didn’t really know what to do. When I say submissive I mean little spoon; I mean the one who thinks too much about phone calls and texts all the time about nothing. I’ve always been an empath, so it was easy for me to be the one who knew all about feelings and had WAY too many of them.

Our relationship hit a brick wall when this became apparent: He didn’t know how to be a boy. He wanted to be the girl too. Two submissive people in a relationship SUCK at solving problems. They hang on every syllable, dwell on every hint of body language and cry all the god damned time so we had to take turns being the emotional psychopath. Relationship failure became very apparent to our friends when we got drunk. We’d giggle and snuggle for the first two shots and then whoever downed the third Mojito would sob his eyes out in a corner because his emotional needs weren’t being met by his boyfriend who has conspicuously lost his mojo. The other party recognized this immediately and donned the hero cloak that never quite fit his scrawny shoulders. He carries his soggy burden awkwardly to bed and quietly shuts the door. If I’m lucky, it’s me. Then he holds me, all night and I don’t mean to take this as an incentive to cry but can’t help it. There’s never any question of sincerity; it’s reactionary to weep when you’re confused about how to fill a gender role that doesn’t match your genitals. Tears also seem to make your boyfriend more of a man for you.

The battle of too many feelings continued until a routine became hardwired. Eventually I established myself as the one to be cared for and I didn’t even have to cry to be little-spoon anymore. He climbed on top of me without me begging him. He was even starting to get some muscles from carrying me to bed all those nights! I had forced my man into being a man. There was only one problem: nobody wants to be with a needy manipulative cunt. Well I shouldn’t speak for everybody, but he didn’t.

I of course felt his attraction slipping from me. I tried over and over again to give him space; to be less of a leech. I found words falling out of my mouth before I could catch them. I got upset when he didn’t call me so he stopped calling me. I stopped talking about anything but how he made me feel. I didn’t talk to any of my friends about anything but my feelings about him. I found my eyes couldn’t stop turning into faucets. It was too late. I had undergone an emotional sex-change and to my own amazement my brain was bloated with estrogen. When he finally told me, “I’m not really into whiney girls”, that was all it took to flood back my testosterone and restore some joy to our relationship.

Since this necessary confrontation my hormones have been much less commanding. I am no longer fixated on constantly receiving any kind of attention. Our relationship is perfectly ridiculous: I am not quite a boy and I am not quite a girl, and neither is my very loving and endearing boyfriend. There are enough boys and girls as it is.

---

MY THOUGHTS AND OTHER RAMBLINGS:
PAGEBREAK.

peaceful chaos

this picture is totally unrelated to what this post is about but there's something about it that makes it emotional and even a little sensual. 

K ANYWAY THIS IS ABOUT MY WEEK. PAGEBREAK:

mad heart

i will be fooled no more,
not by those mellow sweet nothings that effuse from those thin, luscious lips. or that musky, alluring waft of yours as your coarse fingertips sidle through my fragile skin. and definitely not by those rich, marbled eyes that thirstily engulfs all of me.
i will be fooled no more,
but i am still a fool... i am still, your fool.

as i move my feet towards your body

THIS WAS WEDNESDAY:

and it was one hell of a day.

(details after page-break)

i would rather be cool than smart

TUESDAY WAS WONDERFUL:

went amore, which for some reason i've been losing my motivation to go there but i'll get it back.

anyway, Zelia came over and we watched the best (i think) love movie i've ever watched (Hear Me) and ordered macs and watched Eternal Summer after that and I Love You, Beth Cooper. this is not the fun part.

the fun part is where i give her her birthday present (the two paintings as above) and we started taking a lot of photos. and that is when i started loving flash. hated it before cos' it accentuates your flaws but the high quality flash of a dslr makes everything look good! it accentuates your features instead. just some shots:

flash is so freaking awesome! and here's the clincher:

fucking love it. and this too,

p.s, i also had a killer time yesterday but i don't have the even awesome-r pictures yet so i'll talk about it some other time.

---